Understanding Convalescence
by Unbeautiful Efflorescence
Summary: Juukinzuko Drachamaru is a resident of Kanegakure, a rough village known for its ill tempered ninja. Drachamaru is currently enrolled in a school made for his clan, Juukinzuko, known for their mental behavior. In this town its all one can do to survive.
1. Today was going great

Yes, I do own the characters Drachamaru and Gobo, Nobomoru and everyone else up to the point I've reached in my story, except Mochimori and Nagaharu, they are my sister's characters who co-exist in my village of Kanegakure (I am fully aware that this is not an original name for a village, but I am still going with it.) I also own the clan Juukinzuko and am not aware of any other people owning a similarly named clan so that is probably also mine. I'll keep you updated as the story goes along as to whom the characters belong.

This story is rated T for a certain, non-graphic scenario that takes place within the story, please tell me if you believe this should be changed for whatever reason. If it is the rating that would keep you from reading I can assure you that it is not heavily described by any stretch of the imagination, but subtly hinted upon. And, yes I have censored curse words with brackets and put in lesser words in their stead, use your imagination if you're really curious what they actually say, yes I suppose they do actually say those words, just keep in mind when I wrote them in, I was going for a rough, tough city which is probably the only reason I'd use those words. Enjoy!

This is the story of Juukinzuko Drachamaru. I have taken the liberty to include Drachamaru's prior life _before _he meets the actual characters of Naruto. I hope to make this story one you will enjoy and cherish as well as learn from his mistakes, his joys, and his decisions he makes throughout his life.

Chapter Selections:

Today was going great

Today was going to be exciting

And who can tell me what this is

School only lasts until lunchtime

I remember when my mommy used to sing to me when I was scared

The next thing I knew, I was in a bathtub

I woke up in the middle of the night

I slept so late

When I walked home I saw the twins again

When I got home I didn't feel like talking with my family

A week later my grades were lacking

I landed on my back

When I woke up, he wasn't there

Hey

Dad didn't come back until late that night

The next day I studied my butt off for a test on the thing we had built a week and a half ago

Story:

Today was going great. This morning I woke up at five thirty and made myself a big bowl of breakfast, which consisted of five scrambled eggs, a batch of noodles, chicken oil, twenty seven strips of bacon, and two more eggs Sunnyside up. I ate it in record timing too, three seconds faster than my last record, which was four minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Then I got dressed in my favorite outfit. I had put them in the washing machine last night to clean them, but now I realize I'd put too much soap in because it 

smelled like what the soap was scented with. I was pretty sure the walk to school would make it loose that though, so I wasn't worried.

Since I still had four hours left until school, I practiced making batteries from scratch to power a light bulb like my mom had taught me before two months ago when she died. What's really fun that she taught me is that you can actually explode the bulb if you work it correctly, which is even _more_ fun than making the battery.

Then my sister woke up. She normally wakes up at this hour because she stays up late singing her baby to sleep. The baby never sleeps, and it never will either because its fabric. Instead the baby waits for her to fall asleep and then she tucks herself away too, but she never sleeps.

She was crying today; probably because she thought I was Mommy. She's two years younger than me, so it's okay for her to think that even though Mom died and can't come back to make breakfast for her, or give her kisses on her scars, or help her put the baby to sleep.

I went over to her and kissed her on the forehead like Mommy used to every morning. She sniffed her snot back up her nose and rubbed her eye with the hand that wasn't holding her baby.

"Dracha, how are you?"

She was normally this polite, because she wanted to be a princess when she grew up. She must have still been tired, or so I figured because she didn't say my full name. I asked her what she wanted for breakfast, but she said she'd make it herself. I doubted her ability to actually do this, but I waited to see what would happen.

Her nightgown's hem had broken and she was stepping awkwardly on and off of it, nearly making herself trip. She was also carrying not only her baby, which she kept in the crook of her left arm, but her blanket from upstairs which belonged on her bed under the comforter. She had this slung over her right shoulder and snaking behind her like a bridal gown's train. Then her free hand was shoved into her mouth and hung from it while she searched the room for something that might help her get breakfast.

I stood in the archway of the kitchen watching her, nearly laughing as I saw her take her hand from her mouth and grab onto one of the chairs pushed under the tabletop. Her hand had slipped due to the saliva on her fingers and she fell on her butt. She didn't cry, but she did look frustrated. Then she looked at me. I rolled my eyes because I knew she wanted me to stop looking at her, but I left from my spot anyway to go find something else to do.

Even in the living room I could hear her struggling to move the chair. I shook my head at her stubbornness, but I knew that that was something I'd just have to get used to. After all, my dad said that she was turning out to be just like Mommy, and he always used to call Mom a stubborn female dog.

To find something to do, I went into the library and searched for a book I could look at while I waited for school. Our library has a rolling stairway in it, so you can get hard to reach books from anywhere in the room. My sister and I used to play on it, until she fell from the second highest rung and had to get five stitches.

That was before Mom died, about a few weeks before. I remember that because Mom smacked me really hard on my face for playing on the ladder even though I knew better. Then she sat down and brought me onto her lap and hugged me and said that she was sorry she'd hurt me. She just needed me to look out for my sister, because I was the oldest.

I was careful when using the ladder so I wouldn't fall and hurt myself while getting a book. I picked one of the mechanic books that had a lot of pictures of machines. Then I listened hard for Daddy's footsteps, but he must have still been asleep. Silently, I jumped down from the ladder and ran away from the room just in case I had left any signs that I'd jumped from the 

thirteenth rung, which is something I'm not aloud to do since my sister tried to.

I went back into the living room. Sitting on the floor and opening the book at a random page, I started looking through. It was a profession of my family's to build and take apart mechanisms and I was certainly not going be left out. I have been going to preliminary school for the study of basic mechanics since I was five. My sister will be starting the school soon too, but she needs to wait half a year. By then I'll be in academy, so I won't be attending the same school with her until she turns seven.

I thumbed through the book to my favorite section. It's all about bombs. I've made only small ones in class, but soon I'll be able to make stronger ones. The book doesn't tell you how to make any though, so I'd have to make them another way. The best part is that you can get paid to make bombs, if they're any good. Lots of my family works making bombs for the city like my mom did, but not my dad.

I closed the book and turned around. I nearly met my great aunt when I saw my sister lying on the couch hugging her baby sleeping. I mustn't have seen her there when I came in, but now that I did I had a hunch she had given up on making breakfast. I sighed and picked up the book while standing up and moved into the kitchen to make more breakfast. This time, however, I didn't make as much food because my sister is watching her figure: just a bowl of scrambled eggs and two pieces of bacon. Then I poured her some milk and put a napkin next to the bowl. I went back into the living room and put my hand on her measly shoulder and my mouth to her ear, whispering to her.

"Gobo… your breakfast is ready…"

I shook her gently for extra measure and she stirred. Sitting up from her sleep she lost her baby on her lap in a big stretch and a yawn. She looked into my eyes just like how a kitten might while she rubbed one of her eyes. Then she rose up her hands to me because she wanted to be carried to her food. Before I could react, she adjusted herself: moving her hair out of her face and reclaiming her baby in her hands. Then she regained her raised position and I picked her up to carry the princess to her royal buffet.

My sister is like a monster. She nearly squeezed the life out of me while I carried her away from the couch and over to the table. That's nothing though; she can also pick _me_ up nearly half a meter off the ground. If there were ever a time where she'd need to hang on for dear life, she was ready.

After I set her down and my lungs could finally get air into them again, I sat down on a chair next to her. She speculated her food like she thought I'd poisoned it. Stealing a glance over towards me, she picked up her utensils and started to eat. She eats very slowly, like it's her last supper. She reached for her glass, but paused and brought the drink to the level of her eyes.

"Why did you give me milk, Drachamaru?"

My sister has another gift. She knows how to look and sound like an angel while her words are dripping with venom. You'd have thought I had peed in her cup. I looked at her in the nicest way I could feel towards my snippy sister and replied.

"Milk is good for you, Gobo. It helps give you the calcium you need to build strong bones."

I'd learned this at school on a handout. Milk is expensive in my city because it needs to be shipped from far away. They gave us the handout to bring to our parents so that they make sure to buy it. But you need to drink every last drop, or you'll get your butt smacked. I learned that from my dad; the hard way.

"Drachamaru, I don't like milk: it tastes funny and it makes me blow up fat."

"You're not going to get fat." I nearly had what I was saying rehearsed in my head, "Your bones know that they need the calcium and they will get stronger. It'll make you taller, and fat people aren't tall. Look at Dad: he's a giant and he's not fat."

"Yes, but Daddy is a boy. Girls get fatter than boys."

I shook my head in disbelief. My sister is the most gullible person I know sometimes. She's really smart on some things, but then once you talk about her appearance she believes you to the end. I searched my mind for things to tell her.

"Girls don't get fatter than boys… where- where didja here that?"

"Nobomoru said-"

"Nobomoru is a freaking moron who wouldn't know a girl from a boy if they completely made out with him! His _mom_ probably had to tell him what gender he was so he'd stop wearing dresses."

"Drachamaru, that's rude! You should be nicer to him."

"Like heck I will… that lousy-"

But I tried to regain my composure despite how my next-door neighbor had really done a number now. He probably had called her fat. I took a deep breath… and sighed.

"Look, Gobo: you are _not_ fat. You're as skinny as any Juukinzuko girl I ever met. So drink your milk."

Gobo huffed, but still jammed her face into her glass to drain the whole thing in one drink. That's probably the thing I love the most about her; she listens to reason, or at least she listens to me. After that she took her hands into her bowl and grabbed some food to get rid of the taste. It wasn't ladylike, but I'm sure no one would blame her. Milk only tastes good with cookies and sugar dumplings. When Mommy was alive, she always gave us either of those when making us drink milk.

"Drachamaru, you don't have to be the boss of me!"

Yeah, she was still angry at me. I was sure when she grew up nice and lean standing six feet tall she'd think differently. Right now she's still stuck on want she wants, not what she needs, and being silly about it. Daddy said it was a phase she's going through, which is funny because it wasn't like that way before.

"I'm not the boss of you, Gobo. I'm just looking out for you."

"Why?"

"Because I'm the oldest of us. If you don't like it, go back in time and make it so your fanny was first out of Mom."

I try to make things simple for my sister, but this time I must have bewildered her. She doesn't do well with the whole 'back in time' thing. Instead she likes the present and the future. She sat there staring dumb out at the wall. After a while, she looked like she dismissed the idea and went back to eating.

Then Dad came into the room. He was all dressed for work and smelled a little like aftershave. His kind of work required distress on the other end. This could mean he wasn't going to work today, or could mean that he would be called to duty at any time. His eyes roamed the interior of the kitchen and then focused into Gobo's eyes, then mine.

"How are you two bumbles doing today?"

My dad uses a lot of weird words to call us. It's sometimes funny what he comes up with. Mom used to explain to us what they meant; now I have to look them up, but they don't always make sense because every once in a while he makes them up.

"I'm good Daddy."

"I'm good Dad."

He paused like he was trying to find the true meaning of our words, but then he sat down loudly and reach for the fruit bowl we keep in the middle of 

the table. Pulling it towards him, he scooped up one of the apples and bite into it hard. He chewed it and then swallowed. His face, which had previously been pleasant and semi-thoughtful, turned stern, although still a little nice, and his gaze fell back onto us.

"Gobo, did you drink all your milk."

He must have spotted the remains of the white liquid on the cup's walls. Gobo shifted in her chair like she had an important announcement.

"Yes, Daddy"

"And you, Dracha: any milk?"

"No Daddy, I had water."

He pointed his thumb over to the refrigerator while his eyes went up and he took another bite of his apple. I knew what he meant; he wanted me to get some for myself. I was going to wait until he told me to though, because technically he hadn't really given me an order yet. I busied myself in watching Gobo move all the pieces leftover in her bowl to one place so she could eat them collectively. She glared up at me again and retorted.

"What?"

"Nothing…"

My little sister was blowing my cover!

"Go get some milk, Drachamaru."

I eased up on my pained expression I'd etched on my face when I turned over to him. His stern look had returned to his eyes and he watched me with his head tilted upright as if to make me feel even smaller than I already was.

I slunk off my chair and over to the fridge to have some milk. My Dad got up and stood behind me. He opened the refrigerator door and took out a bottle of coffee and then went over to the stove to pour it into a pot and heat it up. That's his version of premade coffee. He monitored me as I grabbed the milk container and set it on the countertop. After I clambered up on the counter to reach the glasses from the cabinet above, Daddy came over and poured me a full glass of milk.

"Drink it."

He left to go back to heating his coffee, but I was too busy staring down a monster of a cup filled to the brim with milk. Gobo giggled. My eyes darted to hers and I glared at her for a good long while before my dad reminded me to start drinking. I picked up the glass carefully, to avoid spills. I took a back glance over to my daddy and he was looking at me like if I didn't drink it Hell would rise. I put the glass to my mouth. It was bad enough I had to look at it, but now I had to smell it every second I kept myself from doom, knowing full well I'd soon have to taste it.

I took a sip. It was horrible. I took my time getting down my throat, waiting for my gag reflex to kick in. I thought if I could just throw it up, Dad wouldn't make me drink anymore than I already did.

"If you spit that out, I'm gonna start loosening my belt."

I could see my plan fade before my eyes, and so I went to plan B: chug the whole thing down. My sister was a master at this. It's as though her taste buds stop working if she doesn't allow it to stay in her mouth for more than a second.

Before my senses could tell what I was doing, I jammed the cup into my mouth, nearly chipping one of my teeth. I gulped it down really fast, but it was like it magically refilled itself. I choked halfway.

Quickly, I moved the cup away from my mouth and slammed it on the counter. I put my other hand to my mouth as I hiccupped, causing the milk to splash up my nose. I caught a glance of my dad's face. He looked frustrated. For a minute, I couldn't breath. I thought I was going to die. Gobo's face was etched with worry; milk was spilling from my nose and mouth. I could see the headlines in the paper: DUMB KID DIES FROM MILK.

And then I swallowed… and burped. I straightened up, suddenly feeling better. I wiped my nose and mouth. I snuffed up the rest of the milk in my nose and swallowed. My dad looked grimly concerned and asked if I was okay. Nodding my head, I turned to look at the milk cup. The milk inside was still swaying with milk dripping down the side of the cup and down the side of the counter from when I had put the cup on the countertop.

Before I did anything I knew I'd have to do about it, Daddy came over and took the glass. Wiping it with a dishrag, he asked me if I was all ready for school. I nodded. Dad nodded too, looking far off.

"You better start walking; it'll start in about half an hour."

"Yes, Daddy"

"Gobo, how about we both go to the park today?"

"Yes, thank you, Daddy"

Dad brought the still half-full cup to my attention.

"This'll be waiting for you when you get back."

"Yes, Daddy"

"Drink it… and hold the theatrics."

I looked at the ground.

"Yes daddy"

"Good: go."

I rushed away from him and looked for my bag in the muck of all the other stuff in the hallway by the door. After I wrenched it out, I slung it on my left shoulder and took a glance in the mirror. This was something Mommy used to make us do before we left. I could see Gobo bouncing up and down in her seat listening to Daddy's fun packed day for her. She bounced so much; her baby slid off her lap and fell on the floor. She stopped to pick her up by grabbing her by the foot.

I looked back to my reflection. I shook my fingers through my hair to make it stick out more. I smirked at the other me, nodding my head in satisfaction. I went half way to my great aunt's when my dad poked his head into the hall suddenly. We looked at each other through our reflections.

"What are you going to do at school today?"

"Be nice, play fairly, no cheating on tests, eat all my lunch, not throw things at people, don't tease them, and pay attention-"

My dad smiled.

"In other words: _behave_!"

I started walking backwards to the door, still keeping eye contact with Dad. I did another smirk, raising my eyebrows and shrugging.

"What don't I always?"

Out of the corner of my eyes I could see him smile and shake his head as I turned around to open the door. The heavy door gave way to let in a hefty amount of chilly wind before I was able to close it. I looked around my block. The frigid air woke my sense up as I pulled my hood over my head to keep my ears from getting cold. The sky was so white with clouds and little flurries of snow waved around in the breeze as I walked down my sidewalk towards school.


	2. Today was going to be exciting

Today was going to be exciting! As soon as I made it to class, my teacher said we were going to build a rocket. All my classmates were just as excited as I was. This was not on the curriculum we left off on since before break, but he thought it'd be a great thing to do for day to celebrate being back at school.

"I want you all to keep your coats on; we'll be doing this outside in the back courtyard… and pair off! Then get into groups of four. That means I should see four groups of students!"

I found one of my closer cousins and went over to him, and then we beckoned the twins to come over to us. We all filed out of the room in one big clump to the outside. The snow had stopped a while ago and the wind had it all dusted over the field evenly. Teacher had us tramp over to the middle of the field were he had some equipment setup in milk carton boxes. He told us to take one box for each team and go stake out an area near the center, but far enough away to have our own space. I took the heavy box and shuffled away to where my team had claimed our territory.

"Hurry up, Dracha!"

"Yeah, step on it."

"We wanna get started!"

"Shove it!"

It was all I could manage to say as I grinned in frustration; this box was freaking heavy! Shifting my tactics for hulling this thing, I finally made it over to my group and dropped the thing in front of me. We went at it like pigs in slop. To a Juukinzuko, this was life. When you get four of them together to make something like this, magic happens.

I grabbed some of the stuff and found directions hidden at the bottom of the box. I quickly opened it up and looked it over.

Most of us are visual learners, but not always textual learners. Not at our ages at least. Our directions were pictures of the material and arrows that point and twist like what you're supposed to do. The twins go their hands on some powder and a smelly liquid, both in separate bottles. My cousin had a piece of string and something that looked like a stand. I had a cuplike object and other wacky metal stuff. I set the directions out in front of us and we examined them.

"Okay, first we need to build the rocket!"

I loved being the boss of an engineering activity because I knew the most about it. My mom had taught me everything I'd ever need to know, and Daddy taught me the rest.

"Who stole the circle thingy?"

I treated this project like it was a vital mission our village needed us to do, as only Juukinzuko can.

"Move girly, you're sitting on it!"

The twins didn't really like each other, but they were both very good at what they did. I told them to nock it off and they resolved their issue for a second and we found the thingy soon enough.


	3. And who can tell me what this is?

"And who can tell me what this is? It's the liquid that you found it the bottle… anyone?"

I had my hand raised even though I actually didn't know what the answer was. Come to think of it, nearly everyone's hand was up to answer the question. I just hoped he wouldn't call on me.

"Mochimori?"

"Vinegar."

"…Very good, yes the liquid inside the bottle was vinegar."

I looked over at the girl twin. She had said that with absolute certainty. I looked her up and down: she had a haughty look to her, like she was smiling on the inside just loving the attention she'd received, and I was lovin' just watching her loving it. Until she looked at me and I tried to casually look away. She frowned, so I put my hood up for extra measure and turned my head away to hide my burning face. When I looked back she had that devilish look on again staring at her desk. I looked over to Nagaharu, her twin. He was shaking his head at me angrily.

I put my head on the desk in my arms and watched her secretly as she etched something into her desk. She had been the biggest help out of all my teammates. I really liked her.


	4. School only lasts until lunchtime

School only lasts until lunchtime; then we go home. It was after school when I saw my sister come over to me and give me a hug. I hugged her back tightly, because she was cute. I asked her were Daddy was.

"He was sent on a mission."

"A mission?"

She beckoned for me to turn my ear to her, and she cupped her hands over it to prevent any sound from escaping to unwanted people.

"It was an emergency."

That didn't really thrill me like it did Gobo. He was probably sent to go help some wacko who nearly killed himself with a machine. My dad is a tech expert like the rest of us, so it wouldn't be hard for him to do, but time consuming and annoying.

I rolled my eyes in aggravation, but didn't let Gobo see me do it. She clung to us like the universe depended on it, so we had to set side some things to allow her to believe we both always got along. It wasn't always true and it never needed to be true until a week after Mom died and Daddy told me to. I only agreed because she's my sister.

We walked away from the building. A breeze made Gobo shiver and I looked at her. She had this issue with her tummy. No matter what, she refuses to where more than one layer over her stomach. She was wearing appropriate shoes, good enough pants, and long enough sleeves, but she had a coat on that cut off before it reached her waist leaving a tight cotton shirt poking out to reach to her pant line. I think it's a girl thing because I've seen older girls do this, but they don't look cold or act cold. It must be something acquired.

I took Gobo by the hand and she tightly gripped mine. We walked in a cheering quiet as we trudged home in our boots, Gobo making sure to step into the deepest snow bank to ensure maximum fun. It was then that we passed into the district where the hospital is and Gobo had let go of my hand.

Normally the hospital is a pleasant enough looking place, and today was going pretty normal. I've made it a habit to look at the tallest part of the building where a flag hung out over the side with the hospital's emblem on it. Looking up I could tell the wind must be fiercer up there because the flag was snapping in the air like someone was furiously shaking it, and it was starting to snow again.

I had lost track of how long I'd been staring at it. The next minute I looked around, Gobo wasn't there. I could see her tracks though because she would be the only one who had jumped in the snow alongside the sidewalk, so I didn't worry.

I followed her tracks wondering how long it would take for her to realize how she too had lost track of things. Then I thought that maybe she had been expecting me to keep up and show her the way and when she found out that I hadn't she'd be very mad. Worse yet, the last time I could remember her being forgotten was at the funeral and she'd been left with Mommy in that room all alone.

I hurried along because I really didn't want her to feel scared. She'd stop and find she's around people she never met and not her older brother who protects her and start screaming, but at least this time she would be found by her brother and not the silence who found her and granted her its miserable company until twelve at night.

I rounded a corner and saw no more tracks. She must have jumped out of the snow and started walking like a normal person on the sidewalk. I really wished I'd never told her that she was weird for doing that. Now I'd lost my clues for finding her. I stopped and looked around to see if I could catch a glimpse of her down the long road. She had not gone the right way home; no doubt because there was more snow on this walkway then the other way. Also 

because she didn't know the way home and that's way she was dropped of at the school so her older, smarter brother could help her.

I couldn't see her. That's when I really started to feel bad. I started to walk, but it was halfhearted. I almost cried.

Then I saw a woman. She wasn't my sister, but she came up to me. She was very tall and dressed like a nurse with high heels. She stooped down and looked at me with sympathy.

"You lost?"

She had this clean, bubbly voice. I watched her put a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear with a delicate lace-gloved hand. Then she smiled at me. She seemed nice… and she looked pretty. I told her my problem.

"I lost my sister. She's younger than me and she doesn't know the way home. I need to find her before she cries. My dad told me to look after her while he goes on missions. She went down this road, but now I don't know where she went."

"That's terrible! Aw… you're so cute; I bet your sister's cute too, right?"

She put her hand on my shoulder, and I could smell her perfume. She stood her full height and looked into my eyes.

"I'll tell you what; I'm on break right now. I can help you find your sister, okay sweetie?"

"Really?"

Not many people would be willing to help someone else in this city. I looked at her curiously and tilted my head. She smiled at me.

"Of course, honey; I'd love to. Where do you think we should start now?"

"Um, well my sister went this way."

I pointed to the direction down the street. She looked off down the street and then looked back at me.

"But you're not sure are you?"

"Well… not _really_ sure, but I think she did."

"Maybe she went this way?"

She pointed down a street that leads off this one.

"That's where _my_ house is actually. If we look down that road, we could find her and then have some cookies in my house. Doesn't that sound good?"

It didn't sound good. I was told to never go into a stranger's house without my parent's say-so, even if they're nice. However I was desperate and I could always just talk her out of it. We could find my sister and then we could go home without the lady.

"I can't go to your house, but I suppose we could look down that street. There is a lot of snow there; my sister likes to jump in snow."

"Okay, let's go."

So we went. When we got to the place we turn to get onto the street, the lady took hold of my hand. After we crossed, I noticed that there were more snow prints. I tugged on her coat with the hand she wasn't holding to get her attention.

"Look! She must have been here; these are her footprints."

"That's good."

She was looking ahead. I guessed if Gobo was here the lady could see Gobo better than I could because of her height so I kept an eye on the tracks in the snow. The wind kicked up and more flurries came down. I started thinking on what I could do to make it up for my sister once we found her. I could make her ice-cream or we play house together like Mommy used to do with her. I looked up at the sky as the snow grew heavier. She was probably cold. I turned my head to look at the lady. She was staring straight ahead still. Then she looked down and smiled at me. She was a very pretty woman.

I noticed we were still hold hands, but her grip had grown tighter so I couldn't just casually let go. I dismissed the problem because she was nice and her hand was warm. There was a long while where we just walked in a silence too busy looking to talk with one another. Then she broke it.

"Well I don't see her yet, we should probably stop by my room to get warmed up and then we can look some more."

"What? We're looking for my sister! She could be in trouble-

"Do you want me to help you or not!"

I tripped on my sentence. She looked down staring angrily at me, but when she did she turn back to face in front of her.

"Honey, I'm cold. I know you're cold too, so we should go inside my apartment and get warmed."

"My sister's cold."

I choked on my words and I didn't want to say anymore in case she hit me or yelled again. I became aware of her grip now squeezing my hand. Then her expression changed and her hand eased up her death-hold and she looked down at me.

"Look, it will just be for a minute okay? I need to get a heavier coat on, and maybe I could find a good coat for you and your sister."

I looked ahead of me as I thought. I was cold, but my sister needed help. On the other hand, it would be nice if I could give her a warmer coat so she wouldn't freeze all the way home.

"Okay, just for a minute."

"Good, sweetie, just a minute then"

She abruptly stopped and we turned to enter into a building. She led me to the elevator and we went inside. This place was already warming my hands and legs, and it must have been the same for her too because she undid her coat and a few buttons of her nurse uniform. Then she turned to me and ruffled my hair sweeping her hand behind my ear and under my chin until it picked my face up and she held it there with her long fingernails digging into my upper neck. She let my head drop and I winced feeling under my chin.

The elevator stopped and we got out in silence. It was dark in this place in the hallway and one of the lights was blinking on and off like the electricity wasn't flowing through properly.

"I could fix the light for you."

"No, that's not necessary."

She spoke quickly and tritely. I shivered. The lady opened the door to her apartment with a key and nearly shoved me inside. Previously, I had mentally made a picture in my mind what a nice place her home would look like. I knew it wouldn't look exactly alike, but I wasn't expecting this.

After only a brief look around, I noticed her apartment was dark and small. All things accounted: it had a firm low couch on a bare floor, a small refrigerator, a dark wooden table and a clean counter space connected to a worn stove; all of it looked foreboding in a way. I noticed there was a door that might lead to a bedroom and when I turned around I saw a simple coat rack: there were no extra coats; there were no cookies. There was her.

This place was creepy. My mind started screaming to get out of here, but I tried to be rational. After all, she might have coats in her bedroom closet, or maybe she just forgot about her not having any coats. She was tossing her hair and looking in a small mirror hung up on the wall.

"Do- do you really live here?"

She started to unbutton herself more and when she turned my eyes went to her bra peeking out from her shirt. When she spoke, her voice a tad too raspy, but for some reason I could now tell that _this _was her real voice.

"Not really, this is my boyfriend's place to hang, but he won't mind one little bit, honey."

Her boyfriend wouldn't have a coat for my sister. My heart rate sped, but I couldn't think what to do. She walked over to the fridge and took a bottle out. I recognized it from when my dad drinks this. Only my dad doesn't drink this directly from the bottle; he drinks it in a cup with his dinner. He also never chugged it like me and Gobo chug milk. She did.

The bottle had been half full, but was now looking more than half empty when she took it from her lips and turned to face me. As she set the bottle down on the counter, I looked behind me again to examine the door. Without a seconds hesitation I grabbed the handle, twisted and yanked on the door with all my strength. I didn't realize she'd previously padlocked it two feet above the handle where a latch was screwed in.

Then she slammed her body sideways against the door facing me with all her buttons undone. I started to tear as she put her hand on my shoulder, then her other hand, and moved them up to my neck and down my back sliding off my coat as she did.

"Welcome to Hell, sweetie. Let's have some fun"


	5. I remember when

I remember when my mommy used to sing to me when I was scared. She had a nice voice and she felt warm. She would always rock me back and forth in her arms. I can remember a lot of things about her, and I can remember them perfectly. I think it's a gift I have: I can see things from my past like a perfect picture in my head.

Mom used to have very short brown hair, the same color as my sister's. She always wore black. She had black cargo pants with lots of pockets and some hooks to clip stuff onto, and then she would wear a plain thick turtleneck with deep soft ridges. Only she'd pull up the neck so it went over her mouth and nose, and just touched her earlobes at the sides. She only rolled it down to kiss us on the forehead because she loved us very much.

She sang me to sleep in her arms rocking me after I'd thrown-up because I'd gotten food poisoning, or when I fell and ripped open both my knees and had to get six stitches in each knee and I couldn't go to sleep because they'd hurt too much. She'd done it when I had a bad cold and had coughed so much my throat burned with dryness and once when I had a migraine, she stayed up the whole night singing and rocking and humming until the sun poked through my window and I felt better and fell asleep, and when I woke up she'd made me breakfast, even though it was the middle of the afternoon, just the way I would have made it.

But Mom's dead. I wasn't in my room either. I wasn't even in my house. I was now outside in one of the alleys and I didn't even know which one. I knew I'd been crying, and I was shivering like mad and not just because it was cold. I hadn't moved for a long while, but I only knew this by the hefty amount of snow covering my body as I sat scrunched up against the wall. I was scared, and Mommy would never be able to sing to me.

I kept my arms tucked in between my legs which I had pulled up to my chin to keep myself warm. I'd lost my coat and couldn't find it anywhere, or maybe I just didn't want to go and look for it. I was freezing and my legs were wet. There were garbage bags next to me. I wanted to go home. I needed to find Gobo!

I stood up and brushed myself off. The rush of dizziness caused me to have to put my hand on the cold wall to stable myself. Then I ran out of the alley and into the busy street. People watched me go past, probably because I had no coat, and one person almost laughed at me. I rushed away from them looking into the snow banks for boot prints. I found some! It hadn't been too long ago when I'd been-

"_Welcome to-_

I jerked my head up faced in front of me and ran again. I started to shout Gobo's name in case she could here me. My legs were very shaky and I felt short of breath. I slowed down after a block or so more and reverted to just shouting her name as I walked.

It felt like hours, but I looked down and still saw footprints in the snow. I had to continue for her.

"Dracha!"

I looked around to where the voice had come.

"Dad?"

I saw my daddy coming, rushing over to me shoving other people out of the way as he did. I saw Gobo was tagging along retracing her prints in the bank. I ran to him as best as I could, but I felt tired. Daddy grabbed me by the shoulders, and at first he looked very angry at me. Then he scooped me up into a hug and squeezed me tightly right off the ground. I suddenly felt much safer. For some reason, it made me start to cry. I looked up at Dad after he let go of me. I turned to Gobo and we hugged each other briefly, then she pulled away and clung to Daddy's arm. They were looking me over. I looked down at myself as well. It wasn't pretty.

I'd torn my sweater through and my shoes both had teared in some places, but worse yet I'd peed myself somewhere down the line and I saw a red bruise-like mark on my face right on my cheek I'd never seen before, and it hurt.

"What happened, Dracha?"

I looked up at him, confused. I hardly knew myself. I tried to think of the last time I'd done anything this stupid before. Only I didn't feel stupid, I was relieved.

"Let's go home and get warmed up, okay?"

They turned to go and I started to walk when I thought-

"_Welcome to Hell. Let's have… some fun-_

And then suddenly I knew why I'd been so happy to see my daddy… so I screamed.


	6. The next thing I knew

The next thing I knew, I was in a bathtub. It was filled with hot water and bubbles. Someone was pouring water onto my back with a bucket. When I looked up I saw it was my dad. He was concentrating on this one activity so much; it was like he was a machine. He just kept scooping the water from the tub and splashing it on me. It felt good.

I saw Gobo peek in through the crack in the door to the bathroom. After a while so did Dad. He shouted at her to go away for just a darn minute while he tried to help get me back to my senses and to give me some privacy. Gobo bolted away. All my essentials were beneath the water and bubbles, so I didn't really care much for privacy, but I did feel I needed to get back in touch with reality.

I took a nice breath in, closing my eyes as I did. When I let the breath go I opened my eyes up and saw my dad staring at me with consciousness of my back-in-body attitude. He looked very relieved.

"Hey there buddy, how ya doing?"

I sniffed and blinked my eyes several times before I spoke.

"I'm fine, Daddy."

"That's great news."

He seemed at a loss for words.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Dracha?"

"I want Mommy to come back."

"Ohh…"

Daddy looked a little sad for a while. His eyes looked away into a corner and I could see his eyebrows twitch downward. Then he took a towel from the rack and picked me up under the arm and rapped me inside it, taking me out of the bathtub. Then he sat down on the toilet and set me on his lap and hugged me. I grabbed hold of his arms with my hands and closed my eyes to listen to his heartbeat. He started to rock back and forth as he hummed a tune I remembered Mommy used to sing, until I fell into a deep sleep.


	7. I woke up in the middle of night

I woke up in the middle of the night. I was in my bed under my covers; the lamppost outside my window was dully casting a glow on my floor showing through the shadows that it was snowing outside. I glanced about, nearly wide awake, to see all my room in its familiarity. It made me feel calm to know that all my stuff was in order. The bookshelf was neat and the wood floor was only slightly messy with things like marbles and pencils. Part of the big rug in front of my bed was ruffled out of shape, and as I hunched over my covers and crawled to the end of my bed, I saw the large dark case at its foot was still dusty.

I sat up on my bed to stare out the window. I could see the lamp attached to our house, but other than that only snow fell in and out of view from here. I lost myself in thought for what could have been an hour or maybe just a minute thinking of nothing at all but how quiet it was in here.

I remembered my sister finally. I'd seen her since I'd lost her, but I couldn't help but think that I can't leave things with her on a bad note until morning. I'd lost her. It was my fault that that happened, and what _that_ was I didn't really ever want to think about.

But I did anyways. The woman who'd helped me hadn't helped me after all. I sighed angrily as I folded my arms. I didn't know what she had done to me, but I didn't like it. I felt sick all over again, so I lay back down and grabbed my covers to pull them up over my head. I lay there for a while trying not to think about anything. Which was hard to do. Thoughts of the incident flooded in and out of me. I felt like I needed to hit something, or run away.

Instead I bolted upright and jumped out of bed. I scuttled towards the door to my room and grabbed my bathrobe from a hook on the wall to put it on. It was still a little damp in a few areas, but it would keep me warm going through the hallways.

I shuffled down a small flight of stairs and turned to go down my hall which brought me near Gobo's room. I hesitated. I could go in there. It suddenly felt like a really good idea; like something I needed. I needed company, even if only to hear her breathing in the same room as me, it would be enough. I crept the remaining way to my sister's room until I was so close I could poke out my tongue and lick her door. I put my ear carefully to it. I didn't hear anything but my own feet straining to keep my body balanced while I kept my distance from the door in case I bumped it.

I moved my head away and then put my hand out slowly to hover over the doorknob. It felt like it'd be a crime if I opened the door. I never go into her room at night. I couldn't bring myself to open the door even though my feet hurt from standing and I was now creeped out from being up in a creaky house at night.

Silently, I made myself count to three, telling myself that when I reached three I would open the door.

"One… two…… three…"

But nothing made me budge. I jerked from standing to long with my knees buckled which made my hand briefly touch the handle. Stabilizing myself, I counted again.

"One… two………"

I was going to do this. I could open the door because my sister wouldn't hurt me for it; she likes me. There wasn't anyone in the house but my daddy and my sister and neither of them was going to hurt me. There wasn't a woman behind the door, or creeping up the stairs to grab me, or press herself on me or pull on my clothes… I hoped.

"Three"

I opened the door. The squeak the hinges made scared me so much, I quickly jumped in the room and closed it behind me in under a nanosecond.

My sister's room was about as big as mine if not bigger. Unlike mine, it wasn't an irregular pentagonal shape, but a perfect rectangle with many windows on the wall opposite to the door where her beds were. I looked at my sister under her blankets. She was dead to the world, or at least she hadn't stirred since I made a scene coming in.

My eyes then saw her other bed about five feet apart from the one she was sleeping in. I quietly walked over to it. If I could just slide under the covers I could sleep in here until morning. When I got there I saw a problem. Her baby was tucked into the covers already. I would feel tremendously guilty if I were to remove her baby from its sleeping place. I stood there for a long while just staring at the baby with its unblinking eyes.

"Dracha?"

I felt my skin prickle as I turned around quickly to see my sister sitting up and rubbing her eye. I smiled a little, but I don't think she saw it in the dark. She dropped her hand from her eye and set it on top of her other hand perched on her knees over the blanket.

"What is it Drachamaru?"

I tried to think of something fast. I didn't really need to have my sister thinking I was afraid or anything.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

I almost said no. Then I thought a second longer. If I said I had a bad dream that would give her something she would understand better than if I told her I thought I heard a woman in the house stalking me.

I opened my mouth to tell her, but tears started to come to my eyes and I knew it would show in my voice. I nodded instead, feeling pathetic.

"Oh, why don't you go sleep with Daddy? He never lets you have a bad dream after that."

I pretended to rub my own eyes so I could get rid of any evidence I'd teared. I felt my anxiety lessen, removing the lump that came to my throat so I could talk again normally.

"I don't want to sleep with Daddy."

"Why? Is it too far from your room? You can stay here until you think you can go to Daddy's room… here, I turn on my nightlight."

My sister shuffled around in her bed to lean over her dresser that stood between the two beds and turn the switch on her small light. A pink glow illuminated her room dimly. It also showed that she'd tried to braid her hair all by herself and had failed miserably. This time however, I could use this as an expert excuse to go over to her and sit down.

I smiled as I came over, causing her to look at me blankly with tired eyes as if deciding what I was doing. I sat down on her bed lumpy with the added blankets she'd given it and looked at her.

"What?"

"Your braid's sloppy again."

She whined.

"So what Drachamaru! You couldn't do it better."

"Oh, yes I could."

I told her to turn around so I could look at what needs doing. Which turned out to be a stupid question. The whole thing needed redoing. I took the tie out of it and started to run my fingers through her hair to undo the braid. When my fingers reached a knot I tried to gently pull it through, but Gobo complained that I was hurting her anyway. Then she shrank away from me in a defensive pose.

"I don't want you to do this anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because you're hurting me."

"Don't be a baby. You just have knots in your hair."

"Ah! How rude, I do not have _knots_ in my hair."

"Yes you do…"

My sister put her pout face on as she folded her arms crossly. Then she flicked her hair back violently in huge sweeping motions off her shoulders and crossed her arms again while she turned her head away and up, revealing that her hair was even more messy now.

"Gobo, your hair's a mess."

She huffed.

"Fine, but let me get my brush and you can brush it."

She hopped down from her bed and went over to her small vanity were her brush was kept in one of the many tiny drawers. She set it on top of the desk and sat down in her chair looking at herself in the decorative mirrors that stood on top of the vanity. I guessed she wanted her hair done over there, so I crept over and stood behind her. Acting impatient, my sister said with a series of head bobs that I can do it now.

I rolled my eyes because she couldn't see it in the mirrors while she was staring at her reflection weirdly. Then I kneeled down and grabbed the brush from behind her. Working my way from bottom to top, I thoroughly brushed her hair until it fell evenly and gave of a gentle shine where the light shone on it.

I set the brush down and ran my fingers through her hair. Then I divided her hair into three locks and started my real work. Mom had made me do this before as a part of training since I was five. I now know how to braid hair with even four strands, five, and six all with excellent timing. This braid was going to be a simple three though, because I was best at making this kind actually look really good.

I worked my fingers, making it taught, but loose enough to look relaxed. Her silky thin hair was easy to use, but when it came to braiding cables and wires, it was a lot harder.

When I was done, I tied it again and patted her hard on the back.

"Ow! Dracha don't _do_ that!"

She had turned around in her chair to emphasize her distain. I could only smirk as big brothers often do to their sisters. Then she hit me on the arm really hard with her fist. I tried hard not to wince because I deserved it, but it really did hurt.

Gobo moved out of her chair and walked back to her bed to get under her covers. I watched as she felt her braid. She tilted her head upright with a haughty look to her. I loved it when girls did this.

Then she slammed her head on the pillow making it poof out on either end. I stood up and looked around awkwardly because I once again found myself useless. Thankfully, my wonderful sister scooted up and looked at me.

"You can sleep in my other bed if you want."

I smiled. This girl was definitely a keeper. Whoever marries her will be set for life. Of course I'd have to make sure that the guy who does isn't an idiot like our next-door neighbor. I went over to her other bed, but I had to stop because the baby was still there.

I glared at it. Gobo must have noticed my plight because she ran over to me and scooped up her baby, kissing it on its forehead and rushing back to her own bed. I smiled on the inside as I took off my bathrobe and climbed into the bed, disregarding entirely the comforter's nice shade of pink.

For a while we just lay there. I stared at the aura the nightlight had cast on the ceiling while Gobo busied herself by humming to her baby one of Mommy's songs. It was a long time before one of us interacted with the other.

"Drachamaru?"

"Yes?"

"Where were you when you left me?"

I was going to sit up to look at her angrily when I remembered that I already had blamed myself for her disappearance, so it didn't matter what 

she'd thought as long as it correlated with what I thought. Instead I put my hands under my head.

"Hell"

"What's that mean?"

I turned my body to face her.

"It means I was in a bad place."

"Why?"

"Because I wasn't with you."

"Huh?"

She sat up and stared at me.

"What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Why?"

"It's personal!"

The minute I saw her reaction I regretted wording my sentence that way. She looked really upset as she slammed her body onto her bed. I turned my body the other way to face the wall. There was a lot of silence that passed between us.

It was me who finally broke the ice.

"Gobo… I'm sorry. It's just that I don't know what happened."

"…You don't know?"

"I mean, I _do_, but I also _don't_. I can remember everything that took place, but I don't know what it was."

"Well, what did happen?"

"A lady said she would help me find you. She pretended to help me until we got to her boyfriend's apartment. Then she took off all her clothes. It was really… weird. She was drunk too… I remember…"

But I didn't want to tell her about after that. After that she'd done worse. I still felt violated from all of that. It made me shiver going through all those images in my head. I nearly started to cry again.

"I remember after that she'd thrown me out of her apartment because she saw her boyfriend on the street through the window. I ran away from there and into an alley were I just collapsed; I think. That's the part I don't really remember. I felt like I'd puked, and then I remembered that you might still have been in trouble, so I ran out of the alley to find you.

"So where were _you_?"

"I was running in the snow. When I looked up, Daddy was there. He asked me where you were and I looked around and you weren't there. So we looked for you around the hospital and at the school and then we tried to go back were I was and Daddy saw you."

It didn't really make sense after hearing it for the first time, but I was glade I was the one to get the raw end. At least, I hoped I was.

I shifted myself to look at her. She was laying down face up with the baby sitting on her chest as she moved its arms up and down. I saw her mouth open like she had something to say, but she turned her head towards me first before she spoke.

"That sounded like it wasn't very fun."

_"Welcome to Hell- Let's have… fun."_

But I did not just hear that in my head. Her voice was raspier, like when you play a scratched CD. I started to cry again. What was _wrong _with me all of a sudden? I scrunched myself up into a ball and put my hands over my face. I couldn't help the moan I'd let out when I did this, but once it happened I let myself go completely. I've only cried this much when that woman had scarred me, but I think I broke that record just now, and this time I was using sound effects.

It felt like a long while of my just wailing my brains out. I had to admit, it didn't seem to be helping my currant circumstance, but I had no 

other ideas, and I couldn't stop myself even if I needed to. Which I did: my sister was in the room and everything!

Then I felt someone sitting right up alongside my back. I started to shudder because I thought maybe I was back there after all and this had been just a dream, and it wasn't fair because I didn't do anything to deserve it! I just wanted to go home and sit on Mommy's lap on the floor and eat cookies. Something, anything just get me away from this horrible nasty, nasty, nasty woman!

She started to sing. I realized that she sounded an awful lot like a little girl, and then the person sitting next to me was too small to be the woman. I stopped wailing and turned my head to see who it was. My little sister was sitting right there, she had even put her hand on my shoulder, though I hadn't noticed until now. She was singing one of Mom's songs. I really love my baby sister.

I stopped crying and just lay there shuddering and sniffing up my snot. Gobo kept the tune and started humming when she ran out of verses. She moved her hand up and down my shoulder to my elbow until I fell into a kind of calm. She then bent over me and kissed me on the cheek like Mommy used to.

"Goodnight, Drachamaru."

She slunk off my bed and I heard her scuttle over to her bed.

"G-goodnight."

My throat was wet with mucus, so I cleared it. My sister nodded her head as she got under her covers.

"I hope you feel better in the morning."


	8. I slept so late

I slept so late; I'd almost been late for school. I rushed out the door without seeing Dad or my sister on an empty stomach. I made it there right as the last person filed into the room.

After taking my seat, I looked around the room suddenly in a daze. I watched the teacher lecture to us, and couldn't hear a word he was saying. I didn't really want to. I kinda liked being in this weird state of mind. I thought about things I hadn't thought about in a long while. It made me feel nostalgic just sitting there staring at my blank sheet of paper.

During one instance, my teacher came over to me to collect my paper, but it wasn't until he shoved it in my face when I heard something cognitive in that room.

"Don't even know the answer to your name?"

I glanced over the sheet of paper, but I didn't see what was wrong. I saw pictures with lines under them. Then he pointed to the top left-hand corner were the word 'name' was. I wasn't following him. Eventually he just left, or at least I noticed he'd gone back to the front of the room after a while. I shook my head because this place was getting kinda weird.


	9. When I walked home

When I walked home I saw the twins again. They weren't walking together, but they were in my view at the same time. Mochimori was walking alone. I smirked; I could maybe talk to her without anyone else around. I started to go over to her when I stopped and froze.

"_I'm cold- I know, NO! You're cold too! We should go inside my apartment- apartment and get warmed… up…"_

I felt my arms grow heavy; despite that I felt them rise up to grab my head as I choked. I closed my eyes tightly and concentrated to keep myself from losing it again. It was everything I could do to prevent that voice from popping up again… I wanted it to stop, but it wouldn't. It played on. I could feel her grab me! I jerked to get away, making my eyes flutter open briefly. I… felt… so… sick…

When I looked up, no one was there anymore, and it was snowing. I relaxed my arms, taking notice that they hurt from staying in position for so long. I looked around feeling sick. Loosening up the joints of my knees, I made myself fall onto them, but I didn't want to stop there; so I did a full face plant. The snow shocked my senses. I hadn't realized I'd been sweating so much.

This actually made me feel calmer. I could think clearly now, getting rid of the miasma that had previously pervaded my mind. I thought about Mom and found I'd already been thinking about her. What would she have done about that woman? I could imagine my mother walking in on her and slapping her straight up the head and taking me away before anything had started. It made me smile.

In this train of thought, it came back to Mochimori. I've liked her for a while. Only Nagaharu had even a clue and it's his job to protect his sister in case the boy's bad news. I didn't know what I thought of her now. It was like she was fading out of my mind. I guess I didn't like her anymore. Maybe it was for the best; maybe I was too afraid to like girls anymore, but I've never been afraid of girls before, and I can't start now because that's lame. I _do_ like girls still, _right_?

"Hey, kid! You okay?"

I remembered I was still lying in the snow. Quickly, I sprung up and brushed myself off. I had apparently startled the guy who had asked me because he backed away slightly in a defensive pose. I looked up at him to catch his face.

He was my next door neighbor. Not the bonehead who called my sister fat, but the guy on the other side. He was about thirteen years old and lived with his grandmother. I quickly came up with a story in case he asked why I was on the ground.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just hot so I put my face in the snow."

It was lame, but I think he fell for it.

"Do I know you?"

"Yes, we're neighbors."

"Oh yeah, the Juukinzuko family."

I nodded.

"Can you get home alright?"

I nodded.

"Okay."

He turned to go and I watched him leave. I really don't think I'd ever want someone walking me around until I learned how to defend myself. Then again, what would a boy do to me? The woman was a kissy, touchy kinda person. At its worst, a boy would only beat me up. As I started to walk home, I decided I didn't like girls anymore. At least for now.


	10. When I got home

When I got home I didn't feel like talking with my family; not even Gobo. My daddy had been called late to do something, so we had to fend for ourselves when dinner came. Only I wasn't hungry. I made Gobo something and left saying that I was tired and was going to bed early.

I had a nightmare. This time, she locked me up in a cage and scraped me with her claws; I was naked.

I woke up drenched in sweat and crying. It was all I could do to keep from screaming, but I did anyway because I wanted someone to come. The problem was: no one did. I started crying even louder. I felt sick and feverish, so I took off my sweaty shirt and threw it on the floor.

I screamed for my Daddy, calling him by his name even. Then I called for my sister, but she didn't come either. So I just sat there screaming. I kicked off my blankets. Then I kicked randomly just to make noise. I slammed my head down hard behind me, only I misjudged the distance between my head and the back of my bed and so I slammed my head into the backing. I felt an immense amount of pain shoot out of my brain and my eyes flooded with black pixels. I screamed again very loud and sat up again to whap my head onto my bundled covers on the opposite side. I choked on my spit and coughed. Snot came pouring from my nose and an equal amount of drool from my mouth.

When it died down, it was only because I couldn't do it anymore. I sat up; sputtering coughs and wails here and there. Not one person heard me. No one came…

Eventually, I decided I could get up and move into my bathroom to wash. When I got up a rush of dizziness came over me. I hobbled over to the bathroom door which was next to my closet. When I got in and turned on the light, I found that I'd peed myself again. I blinked into the mirror to see a sorry looking kid staring at me with scrunched eyes.

I closed the door behind me and stripped down the rest of the way, tossing my dirty clothes into the hamper under the pedestal sink. I dropped to the floor and pulled into myself. I cried my last tears and coughed lightly. The time I spent in there was mainly moaning because it gave me something to concentrate on.

When I looked up at my clock I saw two thirty ticking away. I knew I smelled really bad so I turned to the bathtub and switched the knob to hot water, closing the drain. I took a towel out of the cabinet built into the wall opposite to the tub and I grabbed the soaps I would use on myself from the rack next to the sink.

It wasn't done filing up, so I just sat on the floor with my chin relaxed on the rim of the bathtub. The vapor rose, warming my face. I breathed in deeply and closed my eyes.

"Mom?"

I didn't know from where the voice had come. If I hadn't been any more conscious then now, I'd have thought it wasn't even me who'd said it. Inside of me, I'd been wanting to say that word since forever, and not because I'm speaking in the past. Because it's not a word when I think about it, it's a person who I really like… who I really miss.

I felt tears come to my face again even though my eyes were closed. It irritated them, so I quickly rubbed them to let the tears splash onto my hands.

"Mom."

The tub was filling up. I moved over to the faucet and stopped the water from coming. The water was steaming.

I watched the vapor rise up and out the open window high above. I shook my head at the window; inwardly I was frowning, but outwardly I was too tired to frown so I just looked exhausted. I had to have been in a weird state not to remember to close the window before going to bed. I'd been hot coming in a 

while back, but now I found I was shivering. I stepped into the bath and tried to close the window, but it was too high for me to reach.

Why had I even opened the window? I think I was hot before… yes it made sense to me now. I remembered opening the window because I was hot. I didn't close it because I was afraid someone might grab me and scar me up again.

I grabbed the pole with a hook from the side of the tub so I could close the window. Fear started to seep in the longer it was open. I moved the awkwardly long pole to close the window and missed several times before I got the metal to hook into the hole of the window's bracket and pulled down. It came with some difficultly, but I could now reach the end and I yanked it down hard: shut. I then used the pole to lock the window and I set it down.

To my knees down I was so warm; I _had_ to put the rest of my body in. Slowly, to avoid getting too hot too fast, I crept my body down into the tub and got my last shivers out before I became really warm.

I hugged my knees with one arm as I reached for a bucket on the pedestal beside the tub with the other. After scooping it in the water, I clumsily held the bucket and poured what still remained from my shaky grip onto my head with a satisfying splash.

I blinked to clear my eyes from water and raked my hands through my hair to glue it back. Then I sunk down; now above my shoulders in water. I leaned back against the rim of the bathtub and closed my eyes, breathing the water vapor in… and out… and in… and out… not thinking about anything at all anymore…


	11. A week later

A week later my grades were lagging, but the funny thing was: I didn't care! I really didn't. I fell asleep during class and didn't turn in my work on time, picked fights during recess, and class work was inadequate. That's what it said on the note I personally had to give to my dad to sign and give back to my teacher. Like I was _going _to! I never realized how stupid my teacher really was.

I'd just had an argument with my dad this morning; there was no way I'd let him gain an advantage over me by giving him this. Once school let out I had made it into a paper airplane and detoured from my regular route home to sail it over one of the bridges to the road below. I even had fun watching it hit the street where someone stepped on it.

When I got home my dad was just leaving to go to work. We exchanged glares as we crossed by each other without a word. I dumped my stuff off in the foyer and scudded over to the library. I was intent on making something that had directions for it and I knew just the book I wanted. I reached the room and moved over to the ladder with my eyes on the corner where the book was.

When I grabbed the stairs, I knew it had jammed. The lock on the stairway to keep it in place needed repair. I knew how to fix this because Dad had shown my how, but I was in a foul mood. Instead of getting the screwdriver and taking it apart carefully to grease the parts, I got in position to horizontally pile-drive this ladder with my body mass.

Once I rammed into it, the ladder fell out of its railing on top and collapsed onto the floor; bringing me down hard on top of it. I hit my head smack on the side of the stairs and my nose had been struck on one of the rungs, causing an immense amount of pain to bleed forth from it. The rest of my limbs were hurt in parallel slices across my body. Only my legs and feet sustained no apparent damage.

I was ticked. This was really starting to eat at me. I raised myself up and stood in-between the rungs, wiping the almost-tears from my eyes and the snot from my nose and pulled back a bloody sleeve. Attentively, I touched under my nose with my fingers and then brought them away to see more blood.

I stepped out of the rungs as the temporary nervousness left me and turned to anger. I wiped my fingers on my pant leg and forcefully grabbed the ladder to pick it up. It was heavier than I'd bargained, but I wasn't going to let that stop me now. I hoisted it up to level with my chest before I threw it to the ground.

I watched it clatter only a foot away from me, mocking my lack of strength. I balled my hands into fists and kicked the ladder with all my might. It sent shockwaves through my foot, bringing tears back into my eyes. I was so mad!

I wanted to do more. Something, anything else I could hit was welcoming. My dad's desk in the center of the room came to my attention. He had all sorts of things crowding the surface of his desk; them too all teasing me, the sole reason being that they still stood.

I went over and whammed my first across the desk. Books and their stands toppled and papers flew. The mat that Daddy uses to write over was tipped and fell into the chair, which moved backwards a ways in compensation. In rapid blows, I single-handedly cleared his desk for him: all under a few seconds.

Gobo was standing at the door looking scared.

"Go away!"

I had shouted louder than I had in all of four hours. Gobo fled from the scene as her eyes scrunched up and her mouth tweaked like she was going to cry. But I couldn't and refused to go after her; I was half crazed, going on crazy!

And I didn't care. I went to the bookshelves and started tearing them down. I threw books over the desk and ripped a few pages of another. When I'd demolished all the shelves I could reach, I went for the ones I couldn't. I climbed up the shelves and they slid out a ways in protest but still held my weight as they sagged.

I nabbed volumes and volumes of books, their first and second editions, sequels, prequels, hard and paperback: all cluttered the floor until my mind finally had no more control over my body as I slipped from my grip on one of the shelves and fell down…


	12. I landed on my back

I landed on my back; the wind completely knocked out of me. I sat up clumsily on top of the books trying to breathe. When I could, an awkward moan sputtered out alongside it. I was really crying now because it hurt. Everything hurt. I scrunched into myself and started bawling despite how I really didn't want to.

Now wasn't the time to be acting stupid, but I'd just done the stupidest thing I'd ever done since I'd let my sister jump off the second highest rung of the ladder.

I moaned and sniveled and then I rolled down and started to kick and hit the ground. I was throwing the biggest tantrum, and I didn't really even want to know why, because of course there was a reason. There was a reason?

Then I remembered that that wasn't the last time I'd done something really stupid. I could remember every sleepless night I'd had dreaming up that woman's face in every lurking corner.

My house wasn't safe from her; no where was. I remembered her laugh, her eyes, her bra, her-

But I didn't want to remember anything more: I screamed to lose concentration. There was a loud shout above me which made me cringe.

"What is going on?"

Big hands grabbed both my sides and heaved me upwards to come face to face with my dad. Only I didn't look into his face because I thought I might get a scar if I did. He shook me.

"What is going on?"

He repeated himself in matched volume. I tried to shrink away, but he held firm and shook me again.

"Dracha?"

I started to full out cry again. I didn't want to tell him. I was sorry. I was sorry for everything. All I wanted was to go… somewhere.

To Mommy: I wanted to go to Mom.

I glanced at my dad; I knew he was trying with all his patience not to hurt me, but there I was at fault, blubbering like a two-year-old. I wanted to explain. I was crying too much to say anything.

"Did you do this?"

I nodded my head and a loud moan escaped after it as my face contorted to hold back a wail. My dad's face turned grimmer even though he'd already known it was my fault.

"Why?"

My voice box stopped issuing sounds in a pause. That was a very good question. I didn't know what it was, but it was at the back of my head and felt like an axe wedged deep inside never to leave me.

My tear ducts stopped working too, and I stared off over his shoulder into the hallway.

"I don't know."

It was a lame answer, but I couldn't help but feel that that _was_ the answer. The answer was I didn't know and was too tired to care anymore to try.

"You don't know? Dracha, what has gotten into you?"

I mumbled.

"What?"

"I don't know!"

He rolled his head back and closed his eyes taking in a deep breath. I watched him because I could see now that he wasn't going to hurt me. Inside I wondered where that idea had even come from: Daddy would never hurt me if I was crying. His voice was startlingly quiet.

"Dracha, you have to stop doing this. Ever since you got lost- it- it- it just doesn't add up!"

I was suddenly desperate.

"I'm sorry Daddy!"

He paused almost like he was catching his breath.

"…It's okay, Dracha… I wanted to redecorate this room anyway."

He smiled a little, but I wasn't saying sorry for the room. I mean I _was_ sorry about it; I just wasn't so concerned about it as I was the other mistake I'd made. I was _really_ sorry about that. People don't just get scarred for no reason, so I had to have done something to set it off. I was sorry for that. I was also sorry my daddy couldn't help me.

"I'm sorry…"

I wanted it to sink into him as he watched me with worried eyes. It was the weirdest moment I'd ever had with him; just us, standing in a library with all its books trashed and the ladder askew. Then he hugged me tightly. The last of my tears came down silently. I did not return the hug, but inside I was soaking up every moment of it as he gently rocked back and forth, him on his knees and me standing stick straight.

And I felt safe again. He picked me up and I clung to him, resting my head at the crook of his neck feeling the roughness of his unshaven face as our cheeks touched before I laid my head down on his shoulder. Dad had had a busy day today, I could tell. Inwardly I was very glad that he still had time for me, and I was very, very happy that he didn't leave my side for the rest of the day or at night when I asked if I could sleep in his bed, and he'd said yes.


	13. When I woke up

When I woke up, he wasn't there. He must have been called to work early today. I sat up in the dim room feeling cozily warm under the flannel blankets. My eyes drifted over to the clock standing meekly on top of the dresser on the wall opposite to the bed. It was ticking softly. Light came in through the split in the middle of the dark curtains. Brightness soaked through the lighter sections of the fabric. I knew the balcony behind would be snowy and damp. I knew the dresser contained Daddy's clothes and the socks were in the top drawer. I knew the cup of water on the bedside table was half drank out of, and I knew even before I put my head back on the pillow that it was soft and warm and fluffy.

All of this I found comfort in somehow. The muted atmosphere of the room calmed me further than I'd been in a while. I watched the dust swirling in the fissure of light from outside thinking about what to do today. I wanted to stay here. I did _not_ want to go to school. I remembered Gobo would need to be fed. That's what I would do.

I slowly moved from my position on the bed to sit up once again and put my feet on the carpeted floor. Then I went over to the door and turned the knob slightly. More light poured into the room as I opened the door and went out. Closing the door behind me, I rushed over through the narrow hallway looking down to the floor below me over the railing on my left to see if my sister was in the living room. I caught a glimpse of her hair swish into the kitchen.

I met the stairs with a thud as I jumped three at a time and continued down in this rhythm until I hit the floor. Unlike the hallway upstairs, this one had no carpet, so my feet got cold instantly. I scampered onto the rug in the living room and peered into the kitchen to see Gobo staring at me with a disheartening look in her eyes staring me down. I prepared myself by straightening up before speaking.

"Good morning, Gobo; how did you sleep?"

She was just staring at me, but inside I knew she was analyzing my every move. I'd been really cruel to her lately. I could see she was expecting me to say something to her: something mean. This relationship was going to need some work; starting now.

"So, are you hungry?"

I'd put on my 'nice guy' voice to see if it'd helped the situation. It didn't.

"What do _you_ want, Drachamaru?"

My lower eyelids raised as the acid dripped off her girly voice. I cleared my voice.

"I'm- that is… w-what do you want for breakfast?"

"Why?"

"So I can make you something."

She stared.

"I'm in charge Gobo: you have to eat something."

She leaned forward in emphasis.

"I-would-rather-starve-than-eat-your-food."

I watched her. This was ridiculous. I wanted to ask her if she'd like her baby to starve too, but that what be mean. I needed to change tactics if I wanted to be on her good list again.

"Gobo, what if I let you eat whatever you want?"

"I can't _make_ whatever I want!"

She wasn't biting: partially because she wasn't getting it. I quickly decided to switch into my 'royal butler' mode. This was the roll I was given when Mom wanted me to play with her. It actually isn't as bad as it sounds; it certainly beat being another princess. That was Gobo's idea. I stood straighter and brought a blank formal look into my face as I made sure my fingers fell where my pajama leg's seam was.

"I don't think you quite understand the proximity of the situation I have proposed to you. I have just concluded to you that you may eat whatever you may desire, princess."

She couldn't help but snicker at me as I had brought up a joke we made a while ago when we played the game with Mom. 'Proximity' was not used correctly, or so our mom had told us. Gobo had first said the word to describe a picture I had to paint. She had said its proximity was off-balance. Mom never told us what it really meant; the dictionary had said it was the state of being proximate, but it made for a good long word that we decided could mean just about anything from an adjective to a verb.

As I suspected, she played right into my hand.

"Oh, I suppose I have overlooked the proximity."

She laughed loudly as she leaned forward; breaking her princess pose as she did, but quickly regaining it to continue.

"I would love to indulge in the food I can have, if indeed I can have anything I would, might want"

"What is the sole food of your desire, Princess?"

"I want a yummy bowl of strawberry yogurt with whipping cream on the pinnacle."

I nodded and we both laughed awkwardly. Like how people do when they are trying not to. Striding over to the fridge, I opened the door and pulled out cups of strawberry yogurt and a bowl of whipped cream. The bowl for the food was just as easy to get out from the big cabinets above.

I lumped the yogurts into the bowl, scraping the walls of the cups with a spoon to get it all out. The last thing I needed was an icing disher-outer. I don't know the technical term, but it's the thing they use to put icing designs on cakes that looks like a syringe. When mom was alive she used to use them for our birthday cakes and special cookies on the holidays, and she taught both of us how to do this. I took them out of a cabinet under the counter where they were kept in a white plastic box. Upon opening the box, I found exactly what I was looking for.

It was the biggest disher-outer thingy we had. I loaded it up with the whipped cream until it was packed to the brim and capped it. Then I squeezed the tube down onto the yogurt in the star design it comes out like. I did this until it was all out. It looked monstrous.

Not letting this moment pass without celebration, I laughed maniacally over my creation. Gobo shifted in her seat, waiting otherwise very quietly. I took the bowl from underneath in one hand like I was going to pie my sister, but I brought it over to her, regaining my stoic gaze.

"Your breakfast, Princess."

"Oh… what is it called?"

"Puffy Cloud Delight."

She laughed.

"Puffy-"

She must have really thought it was funny because she laughed again to the point where she might have peed.

"I would love the proximity of the Puffy Cloud Delight."

"As I thought your princess-ness."

"You may set it down on my pedestal, royal butler."

I put it on her placemat and sat down in my own chair. She took her spoon and plumped it into the yogurt and started to eat. It seemed to appeal to her because she ate the whole thing. I glanced up at the clock and dread filed into my senses as I realized I was late for school.

"Goodbye, Gobo."

I lost my butler voice and kissed her on her forehead before I ran into the foyer and grabbed my backpack and coat, did a once-over in the mirror, and left.

"Okay, class: who can tell me what this thing right here does?"

I looked at it intensely to find out where he was pointing; then I raised my hand. He called on me, looking very surprised and grateful as the same time.

"It's a pulley; it helps you lift stuff that is heavy."

"Very good, Dracha, very good."

He was looking directly into my eyes and nodding positively. I smirked back at him, and then I went back to doodling in my notebook. Today I wasn't zoning out, and it showed. I could clearly think on the class activities, and I didn't feel so grumpy.

When the teacher dismissed us, he asked for me to come to his desk. I gathered my stuff up and walked over slowly to him as my classmates took their stuff and headed over to the door.

"Yeah?"

"Dracha, I noticed you're work has improved today. Did you give your dad the letter?"

"Um…"

I'd forgotten about that. Oops.

"No."

He looked confused at me, like he was trying to find out the answer without asking me. He leaned forward on his desk and put his arms down on top of it for support. I shifted uneasily.

"Why didn't you give it to him?"

"Um, I dropped it on the way home."

"You dropped it?"

I have to stop coming up with these excuses. Inside I made a mental note to learn how to lie better. Then again, I _did_ drop the letter.

"Yeah, sorry…"

"Was there a reason why you dropped it?"

"The- I had my gloves on and the wind might have blown it out of my hands."

"The wind?"

"Yes, I can't feel paper with my gloves on; it felt out of my hands and when I got home my dad didn't want me to leave, so I couldn't go look for it."

My teacher had looked me straight in the eyes as I'd spoken, but now they drifted away to look out the window as he thought. I shifted my weight from leg to leg as I waited, painfully knowing that I was going to be the last kid to leave as the pokiest kid bolted out the door looking like a dweeb with all his papers hanging out of his backpack running down the hallway. I heard the heavy doors open up and the rush of wind that blew into the hall and then the slam of the doors as they shut fast.

"Dracha, is something going on at home?"

The question brought me back to looking at my teacher blankly. I didn't know how to respond.

"I know your mom's death caused a lot of pain for your family. Sometimes, people just don't know how to cope with death and they do things they're not supposed to; do you know what I'm saying?"

I didn't. What _was_ this about? Why did he think he needed to know? I moved my eyes to look at one of the corners of his desk.

"Are you and your sister okay?"

I shook my head as I widened my eyes, but I didn't look at him. He shifted his position in his chair as he sighed. I glanced at him and then moved my eyes back to the desk because he had been looking at me.

"Dracha, if you don't feel like talking to me, you don't have to. I'm just checking to see if you're alright."

"My dad loves us."

He paused.

"That's good to know."

He took some papers in his hand and straightened them, but I knew it was just to give him something to do.

"So, Dracha, I won't penalize you this time for not giving your dad the letter because you _did_ improve your behavior today, okay?"

"Okay."

"But I want you to keep this up or I _will_ write another letter."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good, now, goodbye."

I looked up at him to reassure him that I was fine. I nodded my head and turned to leave, looking out the window in the hallway showing the snow falling down heavily.


	14. Hey

"Hey! Drachamaru? That's your name right?"

That's my name, don't wear it out. It was my neighbor, the one who had found me in the snow that day. I watched him rush over to me as I walked steadily over to my house.

"I need someone to help me with this problem; do you think you could do it?"

"Uh, what is it?"

"It's in my house, I was wondering-"

The red flags were going up; I almost panicked.

"Oh, your house- I can't. My dad wouldn't want me to go into other peoples houses without him knowing first."

I could see my neighbor mapping out what I'd said in his mind in his blank stare. I didn't really know him, so I felt no obligation to explain further. My dad had never really mentioned him to me much. He did say that the woman in the house was a female dog. I didn't know if it transferred to her grandson. The guy was bobbing in concentration as he went back into his house. It was actually a strange encounter; I can remember all the times I've seen him off his property and can count them on one hand. There must be _something_ wrong with him.

I walked the rest of the way home and walked in through the door and set my things down on the pile. I was surprised to see that my dad was leaning up against the archway to the kitchen, but not as much as I was to see him upset. Instantly I tried to come up with excuses for any possible things I did wrong today.

"What did the neighbors want, Dracha?"

"Uh, they- he wanted me to help him with something in his house."

"And what did you say to him?"

"I said I couldn't because you said not to go into people's houses without your permission."

"Good boy."

He didn't say it very nicely. My dad doesn't say things like that. It wasn't 'Atta boy, Dracha; you win the Dad's favorite son award!' it was more like 'Yeah, and don't you forget that!'

I narrowed my eyes as he left from his post and went into the kitchen. What did _I_ do? I didn't know, but I think Dad wanted it to be left at that.

I caught my sister watching me from in the living room. She was kneeling down with a collection of crayons by her and a large piece of white-sided cardboard just clipping her knees. Her hair was down, causing her to brush it back with her hands every now and then.

"Hello Dracha."

She leaned forward again to color some more on the board with a big red crayon. You could hear this irritable sound as she swooped the crayon furiously to shade in something in her picture. I sauntered over to my sister thinking what I could tell her about my day.

"Hi, Gobo whacha drawing?"

"A picture."

My sister was pretty descriptive sometimes. This was obviously not one of those times. I reached her and turned to face the direction of her picture. I had no idea what it was; it might have been a flower, or it also resembled a spider.

"What is it?"

She looked up at me like I was the rudest thing on earth. I smiled in defense, allowing her to calm down from my blatant disrespect. She turned to keep coloring her picture.

"I'm drawing Mommy."

I hadn't the heart to tell her that that didn't look like Mommy. Instead I kneeled down to get better acquainted with Gobo's picture and find out how this looked like Mommy to _her_.

"Where's her head?"

"I didn't draw it yet."

"Okay, where're her arms?"

"Here… and here."

She pointed to these abstract places on her board. They did look like arms, but they weren't attached to anything. Gobo picked up a crayon to draw a circle and then colored in the top half.

"Well, where's the rest of her body?"

She sighed like I was stupid. She pointed.

"The legs are here and here, her arms are here, like I said before, and then here's her foot, and this is her tummy area, and this that I'm drawing is her head."

"Mommy had two feet."

She grumped; folding her arms and frowning at no one, making her eyes look up as if it increased her attitude. Then she sighed loudly shaking her head and continued to draw in Mom's 'head'.

"I _know_ that!"

She exchanged crayons to give Mom a different color for her eyes and lips. She was able to draw this just fine.

"Why is everything all over the place?"

Again she stopped and looked at me.

"Because she _exploded_!"

I watched in muted amazement as she finished up drawing Mom's head and then took the red crayon again and started drawing something trailing out where her neck should be. Gobo never drew pictures about the past; certainly nothing about Mom _dying_. Sometimes she would even say Mommy never died, or she'd ask Dad when Mommy was coming back. When she was done with that, she went back to filling in this glob of red. I asked her what that was.

"That's her heart, Drachamaru. Mommy died."

"Yeah, but they didn't find a heart: they didn't find any part of her after that."

"I _know_ that! When Mommy _died_, she left her heart, so we wouldn't be lonely."

I stared at the heart, and then shook my head. I got up quietly and moved away from her picture. Then I saw Dad watching us from upstairs on the balcony in the narrow hallway. He too shook his head, and he walked into his room, shutting the door silently.

I knew how he felt. We were the ones who really remembered her. That accident shot a big hole into our family. I couldn't help but feel a tear from deep inside grow.

I left my sister to her coloring and sat on the couch. It almost felt good to have someone else thinking about Mom though, even if it _was _just my sister. Daddy didn't ever talk about it.

I started thinking about my neighbor again. I wondered what it was he'd wanted me to help him with. My dad suddenly burst out the door, getting his gear on.

"Dracha, I want you two to stay in the house. I'm going next-door, there's a problem going on with the lady over there."

The sensation of hearing the door slam that hard against the wall had shocked me, but I turned to look as he thudded down the stairs and rushed over to the main door.

"I'll be back soon; don't get into trouble!"

And then the door banged shut. My sister and I exchanged glances. I shrugged. Gobo went back to coloring.

Seconds passed. I waited to see if this was one of those times where being 'back soon' actually meant soon. Apparently, it didn't. After hesitating and glancing over to my sister, I decided I'd go look out the window and see what was going on.

Outside, I could see someone being taken out of the neighbor's house in a stretcher. It looked like it was the grandma of that guy. She wasn't moving, and her eyes were closed. They were carrying her away from the house in a hurry, probably to the hospital, with my dad in the lead.

I'd never seen my dad in action before; this was pretty cool. Quickly, I rushed over to another window to catch a glimpse of the ensemble. I had just enough time to see them turn a corner and out of my view.

"Dracha, we're not supposed to go outside!"

I looked over to my sister wondering where that comment came from. She was staring at me like I was stupid again. Inside, I wondered how she _ever _hoped to be a princess with that attitude.

"I'm not going outside, Gobo; I'm looking at Dad. They carried that old lady out of her house. They might be taking her to the hospital."

"Okay."

She returned to her work in a huff. I sighed, shaking my head at my little sister. She was quite the character sometimes.

Already bored, I slunk away from the room and up the stairs. Up another flight of steps, I went into the far corners of the house to get to my room. I had a plan mapped out by the time I got there on what I wanted to do.

It was when I reached my door when I heard this noise that made me pause with my hand on the knob. It sounded like a thud, like something had fallen. I cocked my head and looked up into the corner of the wall adjacent to my door before I turned around and started to walk over to where I thought the sound had come from.

More noise led me over to Dad's room. Cautiously, I went over to his door and knocked. I heard a gasp inside. Frowning, I took the handle of the door and jerked it open to find someone rapidly waving their arms as though it would help keep me from opening it further.

It was my neighbor. How the freak he got in, I didn't know. What I did know was he didn't belong in here.

"Please, don't shout."

I watched him curiously. He was searching the room with his eyes as his arms fidgeted like he did not know what he should do with them. Then he slunk over to me in big steps.

"Don't tell her I came here; I'm just so lonely!"

My mind drew a blank and it showed on my face as I stared dumbly at him waiting for an answer. He placed his arms on my shoulders, and I felt chills flood into my neck, so I shoved his hands off of me.

"What are you doing here?"

I tried to sound very loud so someone would hear me. The guy grabbed me and turned me around putting his hand over my mouth to silence all protests. His hand was damp and smelled like sweat.

"I need you to be quiet. Can you do that?"

He was looking down at me. I looked up at him with wide eyes, nodding my head furiously as I tried to work my hands in-between his hand and my mouth. He let go. I turned around to face him angrily.

"What the-"

He put his hand over my mouth again.

"I thought you said you could be quiet!"

I shoved his hand off of me.

"I _am_ being quiet. What are you doing here?"

He looked around as he brought his hands up to pinch his shirt in the midsection, twisting it absentmindedly. His eyes darted from the door to me, 

and then to the window behind him as his body followed the change in direction. I made sure I had a blatant frown for when he turned back to me.

"I was just- please! I don't have any friends!"

He looked like he was going to cry. His knees pounded the floor as he fell and shuffled over to me holding his hands out desperately. This guy was nuts!

I shrunk back from him, but he came all too quickly and seized me by the sides of my arms. I braced myself for when he would hurt me, closing my eyes. But what I felt didn't hurt me, so I opened them to see what it was.

My neighbor's head was leaning on my chest with his face looking down at my shoes. He was shaking. I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for this guy's masculinity. From the sounds coming out of him, it was like he was crying. I tried to remember exactly how old this guy really was.

"What happened to your grandma?"

He squeezed my arms tighter upon hearing this.

"She… she fell down the stairs!"

That didn't sound too bad. I've fallen down the stairs lots of times. Sometimes even on _purpose_. But he was still crying, and the fact that my dad had to go over there to help kind of changed the situation's levity a bit.

My eyes roamed over to the window. For the first time, I realized it was open, and I suddenly felt cold, but past that window, my neighbor's window was open. In his house, I could see into a sitting room. Further than that in a hall there was a set of spiral stairs that led to a tower room above.

If _those_ were the stairs, I had no problem believing that she needed to go to the hospital. So this was what he'd wanted me for? I couldn't say I was happy about turning him down no that I thought about it. Actually, I felt like a big moron, but this guy was still here _now_, crying on my shirt. Maybe I could help after all.

"Hey, don't worry so much… I'm sure your grandma's doing fine."

"She didn't l-look f-fine!"

I sighed. This called for a change in tactics. Gently, I took my arm and put it on his back to comfort him as I stroked him.

"Shh…"

I brought my other hand up to mimic the first one as he continued to wail. It felt kind of awkward doing this, and I'm sure it looked awkward too. I just hoped it helped.

"Shh… don't worry, my dad's on the team; nothing's gonna go wrong, okay?"

My neighbor calmed down gradually as the minutes passed. I heard noise from downstairs. Silently, I prayed that Gobo would stay down there. He picked his head up from my chest. He had tear stains on his acne infested face and snot pouring down his upper lip. It was very unattractive, but in a way very pitiable, like how Gobo is when she cries because her head hurts, or she has a tummy ache.

"Your dad is saving my grandma's life!"

The corners of his cheeks lifted when he smiled, and his eyes scrunched. His teeth were crooked and he had braces. I smiled to confirm the remark properly, my arms still on his ribcage.

Then he hugged me, putting his head over mine, which shocked me out of my brain. Putting that aside, I returned the hug, although it wasn't as firm or nearly as suffocating. He pulled back looking into my eyes. I nodded positively and he let me go from his grip. Then he stood up his full length and wiped his nose on his sleeve staring up at the ceiling.

He turned his head to look behind him, then downward to look at me before he starting heading for the window he'd come from. Curiously, he'd put a plank between the two windows just to get here. I took on last glance up at 

him, not helping the fact that I was looking at him strangely. What a weird guy…


	15. Dad didn't come back

Dad didn't come back until late that night. I heard him come up the stairs when I was taking a bath. Previously, I'd taken great measures to make sure it didn't look like my neighbor had come in, and I guess it worked because he didn't come up to ask me about anything.

I wondered about how my neighbor was doing actually. The time I'd spent with him made me wonder why Dad seemed to have such a problem with them. He didn't hurt me; he really looked pretty harmless. He certainly didn't… well he didn't act anything like that woman…

Quickly, I jumped out of the tub to clear my mind, taking a towel off its rack and wrapping it over myself for warmth. I hadn't finished washing, but I didn't really want to linger here right now.

I thought of my bed in the middle of my room and the rug underneath and my toy chest that I kept all the things I've made in. It was nighttime in my room; the moon shown through my window above the small radiator, casting its glow on my comforter and partially on the wood flooring, and it all had an aura of safety about it. Like in this room, I would never be hurt or yelled at or… touched…

I put my towel back on the rack and took out my pajamas from the bottom shelf and pulled them on. As I flipped the light off, I opened the door to my room and smiled when I saw my room exactly as I'd pictured it. Quickly, I rushed to my bed and hauled myself onto its poofy masses of blankets and whipped them off and over my body.

It was warm under my blankets and I felt clean despite my bath being shortened. And I was safe.


	16. The next day I studied my butt off

The next day I studied my butt off for a test on the rocket we had built a week and a half ago. The best part was that I got a hundred on it! I ran home to show my dad.

When I got there however, he wasn't home. Neither was Gobo, which was a real pain because now I had _no one_ to show this to. I shrugged my backpack off and set my paper with a big red hundred written on it on the small table under the mirror hoping Dad would see it when he came back home.

He'd probably taken my sister out to shop for clothes, which is something he'd been meaning to do for a while. My sister hasn't been shopping for clothes since Mommy died and she's grown a bit more since then. Thankfully, he didn't take me because I _hate_ shopping. Inside I was praying he'd just bring me clothes in the right size and I'd never have to go out.

I spent my time without them making popcorn and then roaming around the house with a bowl of it wondering what else I could do. The house creaked when the wind blew harshly outside. It was all too quiet inside, almost eerie.

I finally decided to sit on the top stair on the steps that lead to the living room. There was a tenseness in the atmosphere as I chewed my popcorn until it was nothing but mush in my mouth. Cautiously, I stole a glance about my surroundings.

This was getting creepy, and I rocked slowly to try and cope with this, but it felt scary being alone in this big house. Mentally, I was checking my memory to see if I'd locked the front door. I remember doing it… I did… I _thought_ I did… then I wasn't as sure… then I wasn't sure at all… then I _knew_ I hadn't lock the door.

Was that the door opening? I tried to listen, but the silence interfered with my hearing; I couldn't tell if that was the door.

I picked myself up off the floor and ran into my dad's room right down the hall. I knew I was being chased by her! I heard her footfalls heavily, racing against my own. I dared myself to look behind me as I opened my dad's door and slammed it once I was inside.

She hadn't been there; I was safe: maybe. I had my back against the door with the bowl still in my hand. Popcorn had spilled on the floor were my feet were.

I looked at the bed. It looked a lot safer over there than were I was now, but something prevented me from going over to it. I looked under the bed, and then over at the closet. I felt my blood slow and congeal in my legs and arms, making me unable to move, unable to run, but able to whimper. Which I did, I hate to report.

Questioning my own masculinity, I stared down the bed like a life raft escaping me. I needed to get over there before-

I bolted over there as fast as possible. The momentum I had built up by the time I'd made it there caused me to shift the mattress three feet off its stand when I landed. Dad would forgive me.

I ripped up the covers and buried myself under them, still holding the popcorn bowl. It still didn't seem so safe, so I compacted myself against the bed to look as inconspicuous as possible. As much as I thought this would help and I was okay, and as much as I believe my dad was going to yell at me for acting like a little baby, I really wanted Dad to come home. If anything, _he'd_ be able to get that woman.

It was getting ridiculous; I know, but I couldn't shake the fact that this house was providing the perfect atmosphere for my issues. She was freaking me out!

"_Welcome- hell… hello- let's have- fun!"_

I screamed. This defeated my hiding under the covers act, so I straightened up, pulling the covers awkwardly with me to cover myself neck-down. I could see the bedroom door and the cloth that covered the closet entrance, both looked foreboding; one of them _must_ have moved.

I shouted again. My tears prickled my skin as they ran down my cheeks. There was a mirror hanging to my right that had caught the reflection of a very pathetic looking idiot bawling his eyes out in his daddy's bed.

A window opened, so I turned to look at it; it was my neighbor's window. He was leaning out of his window. I sniffed like a freaking simpleton as I watched him and breathed heavily. I was starting to feel a little better, actually.

He caught sight of me and beckoned. I quickly wiped my face of tears and snot, and slowly, I got up and walked over to him and pulled up my window. Cold air swept into the room, chilling me, bringing a freshness along with it. Then I too leaned out the window, making sure I had a questioning look on my face.

"Hello, Dracha!"

"Hi… what are you doing?"

"I wanted to tell you something!"

"What?"

"My grandma's okay! She's inside sitting on the chair in the living room downstairs."

"That's great."

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

I surprised myself at how abruptly I'd said that, but then again I was kind of mad at myself; he didn't seem to catch on though.

"Were you taking a nap?"

"No."

I knew I was being rude to this guy, but I couldn't help how much I felt like such a loser for hiding under my dad's covers from a woman that didn't even know where I lived. I think…

"Are you alone in there?"

"My dad went shopping with my sister."

"He did?"

"Well, he'll be coming home soon."

I know a lot of people would think that this was child abuse, you know, leaving your six-year-old home alone. But I'm almost seven, _and_ I can take care of myself: I'm a genius. Some people just don't know what a kid my age is capable of doing by themselves. _My_ parents did. Anyways, in their line of work, they sometimes had to leave us home alone. I just tell these lies to ease the consciences of the older people in my life and around the neighborhood.

"Are you sure?"

"Yup."

"Maybe you could come over to our house and stay until your dad comes home."

"Uh-uh."

"No?"

"Sorry, I told you before: I'm not allowed in other people's houses without my dad's permission."

"Oh… yeah I remember that."

He looked tense. _His _parents were defiantly the type to hire a babysitter when they left. I could see my plight was tugging at his heartstrings. It was so dumb seeing the older people getting worried over me, my dad maybe not so, but the rest of the community was a 

little too much. Then again, I started feeling this sense that if I lost him I'd have to fend for myself in this big creepy house.

"But maybe my dad would understand if I just stayed over a little bit with you guys."

"Well, come on over!"

He beckoned through the window, but then pointed down to indicate that he meant for me to come over from the main door. Then he shut the window and began walking into the hallway of his house leaving my view.

I pulled my window down and backed up to face the bedroom door. Without a thought, I moved quickly to it and opened it, stepping outside in through the hall and going down the stairs three and a time until I reached the living room and then the foyer. Actually, the door _was_ locked.


	17. The fresh air

The fresh air pleasantly numbed my mind as I walked over to the neighbor's for the first time. I'd never been past my own house on my block in the neighborhood; even my backyard was raised high above theirs and an ivy covered wall prevented us from seeing them. Chills ran down my ribs and legs as I passed the imaginary line that I'd never crossed before.

He was there opening the door as I stepped onto the path to their main entrance. I smiled and greeted him even though I'd technically already met him today upstairs. He nodded and arched his arm so I could pass under him.

His house was very neat. You could tell an old lady lived here too because there were antiques everywhere. Even the wall paper looked old fashioned. The designs for this house were fancy but not gaudy. They had a silver chandelier in their foyer with an umbrella basket instead of a heap of outdoor stuff, and a picture of a sharply dressed man where our mirror would've been. The room lead to the kitchen just like ours, but it was to the right and had a more stony look compared to our wood and jade furnishings.

Instead of where our kitchen was, there was a sitting room with a big window in front to let in the sun that shown upon the low table and the couch colored in a light blue pattern. A bookshelf was built into the wall behind and a decorated chair with a lamp behind it stood off to the corner nearby. On a side table was an ivory teapot fashionably cracked with a doily knit underneath to accent it. The rug in this room was well kept but worn from the many years it must have been there.

The other archway lead into a living room dark from heavy curtains drawn over their windows, highlighted where the beams escaped around them showing the dark red color of the room. There was someone in this room because I could see their silhouette reclining on the deep couch further in the room a few feet from the largest window that might lead to the backyard. They were sipping something softly and then wiping their mouth on a handkerchief carefully. Then they turned to look at us.

"Grandma, this is my friend Drachamaru."

I felt a little awkward as I looked into the living room trying to see her reaction. I wasn't his friend by any stretch of the imagination. I'd met him only five times now. I could admit, some of them had been recent, but I'd say I'd met the school janitor more than that. At least I knew the janitor's name.

"Drachamaru? You mean the little boy who lost his mother in that horrible accident?"

She bent over to have a better look at me, mumbling to herself a great deal before looking at me finally, but decided that it would be best to get up and walk over for a better view. I felt embarrassed for her when I saw she was dressed in her pajamas and my cheeks burned. She looked like a really old lady with wacky white hair and wrinkles everywhere. Her skin was spotted and parts of her sagged in strange places.

All my life it was expected of me to respect my elders. I bowed to her deeply and then looked into her eyes. They were probably the only things that still showed how pretty she might have been before when she was younger. She still wore her wedding ring proudly to prove this.

"Hello miss, thank you for letting me into your home."

She laughed in a high airy voice before she placed her hand on my shoulder and spoke to my face.

"Oh, you don't have to call me 'miss'. Oh, ho, ho! My younger years are over. Oh, but you're such a polite boy, aren't you?"

I didn't know how to respond to this, so I just smiled up at her.

"Oh, and you've got such a handsome face!"

She gasped and put her hands over her mouth as she thought.

"You're from the Juukinzuko clan… such stunning eyes: all of you. Come into the kitchen, you two!"

So we were ushered into the kitchen by her wrinkly hands and told to sit in the dark chairs that lined the small table situated somewhere close to the archway but hidden from view of the door to the outside. The room was very bold with sudden contrasts of blacks and whites, and almost no color was added to it effects besides the clock which ticked away up above the deep black sink because its hands were painted a deep red. It was chilly in this room.

"Yes, I remember the funeral procession… so young."

The lady rambled as she opened the refrigerator doors in search of something. It wasn't a common topic of choice, not in _my_ house at least. In fact, Gobo and I weren't told about the funeral until the day of. Dad never said anything about it. Nobody talked about it after that either. I mean, my teacher said that if I ever wanted to say anything about it I could, but I wasn't about to get spill my guts out to him. I wasn't so choked up about it now.

She took out milk, which scared me; if she asked me to drink that plain I'd have to do it. It was the only polite thing to do. She then took out a black pitcher from a tall cabinet and placed it on an onyx island countertop and poured the milk in halfway. I watched her earnestly, hoping she would not offer it to me.

"Would you like some milk Drachamaru?"

"Yes, please."

Inside I had lost all taste for these people. They may have saved me from my house, but now they were torturing me! The guy sitting across from me leaned forward to adjust his legs under his butt so that he was now kneeling on his chair.

"So polite!"

I gave a faint smile as she set the pitcher on the table in front of me. Maybe I could just take a small amount for her sake. She turned, probably to get some cups. My only hope was that she thought I was mature enough to pour it myself.

When she came back, she set the cups she'd retrieved from another cabinet near the sink on the table, and then she spun off to the opposite end of the kitchen to pick up a ceramic jar. This lady was very mobile for her age and build.

"Now, have some milk and a cookie or two."

I perked because I really like cookies. She set the jar down on the table and took the lid off. They smelled like chocolate chip, which is my favorite!

"We made them only yesterday."

She paused and shook her head as though those cookies reminded her of something very special.

"Well, dig in and eat!"

She didn't have to say that again. I took a cup and scooched the pitcher of milk over to me so I could grip it better and hoisted it up to pour myself a good amount of milk because cookies taste really good with milk, and I wanted a lot of cookies. After pouring it until it was at the brim, I moved the pitcher for the guy across from me while looking at the large cookie jar. The lady seemed to have thought I should be helped with this, so she reached her hand in herself and pulled out a few for me.

These, however, were not normal cookies. They were thick, gigantic monster cookies! If I were to make a rough measurement of it with my hand spread out over it, its diameter would be from the tip of my thumb to the last centimeter of my pinky. I tried to fit the cookie in my glass, but it couldn't touch the milk! I had to break the cookie and then stick it in. It was good! But incredibly gooey inside, so I had to drink my milk to make it not stick to my teeth so much. Quickly, I reached for another one and bit 

down hard into it. They're delicious. I was so raptured in eating these cookies I didn't realize that they were staring at me until my fourth helping.

"Hungry?"

The lady looked down at me warmly as she said this, but all the same I felt my cheeks burn. I'd been told not to pig while in front of guests or when a guest. Oops.

"They're very good."

It was all I could say to make up for it. She smiled and turned away to put the extra glass away. I noticed that while the lady had taken a cookie for herself, my other neighbor hadn't eaten any of them or taken any milk. He was staring at me. So I stared back at him while I stuffed another cookie in my mouth and chewed. This guy was kind of weird.

"So, where did you meet your friend?"

I looked up at the lady, but she was talking to her grandson. His gaze turned towards her and he stared lazily out at her face like the lights didn't turn on inside.

"Wha-"

"Where did you meet Dracha?"

"Oh, I met him yesterday."

"When did you do that?"

"While you were in the hospital."

The grandmother frowned off into the distance of her kitchen.

"On your walk over to me?"

"Yeah."

That was a lie. I stared at him, but then turned to his grandma to see if she brought it. She looked her grandson in the eyes. Then she smiled and in a caring voice told him that he was much a good boy for visiting her.

"I'm glad you thought to do it."

My eyes went from the lady to her grandson as I tried to understand what was going on. What was so hard about going to the hospital all by yourself? He's thirteen years old, for crying out loud; I walk farther than that to get to school everyday!

There was this awkward silence after that that made me feel like I brought an unwanted sound into play when I chewed. I glanced at the clock and the cookie lost its flavor. It was nearly dinner time!

Frantically, I looked back at my neighbors and cleared my throat for an introduction.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know what the time was; I gotta go home. My dad is gonna get really mad at me if I don't get there soon!"

The lady looked at me with this startled expression, but nodded as I stood up and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Okay, Drachamaru, let me show you to the door."

She walked in front of me even though the door was right in the next room. It was only _now_ that she walked slowly, plodding from foot to foot like an old lady, but I couldn't blame her because she was only trying to be nice. I just would rather have had it so she just said goodbye and left me to fiend for myself.

"It was nice seeing you here, Drachamaru. I hope we'll meet again sometime."

She said this as she opened the door for me. I felt like a sprinter just waiting for the gun to signal. Open the darn door!

"It was nice seeing _you_, miss."

"Oh, ho… such a charmer."

And the door was opened all the way. I said goodbye and bolted out without another glance back, which might have been rude, but I couldn't 

afford having Dad think that I broke the rules he set up. They _were _to protect me after all!

My house seemed so far away from me now that I'd left; I wondered if they were watching me run home right now. I pumped my body furiously, going as fast as I could until I passed the line that I'd previously never crossed before. I continued to jog my brain out until I made it to the front door of my house.

I opened the door quietly and crept into the house, stealing a glance into the kitchen and living room to see if anyone was there. It was very quiet.

I moved into the living room and looked around at the couches and up in the hall to see if they were home. No one was there. I decided the best way to check was if I went into Gobo's room. If they were home, she'd be putting her clothes away in her dresser.

I walked up the stairs and passed the hall to my dad's room and turned to the right down another narrow hall to my sister's room. When I entered I saw her baby taking a nap, but nothing more: they hadn't come back yet. I was saved.

The sound of the door perked my ears as I listened to it being opened. A slight tingle of fear dripped into my system and momentarily paralyzed my ability to move as I heard people step in and someone jumping up and down.

"Daddy, Daddy I beat you inside!"

"Drat, and I was so close too!"

I rushed out of Gobo's room like I was on pins and needles and into the hall over to the balcony to look down at my sister kicking off her old boots with raised arms holding two big bags. My dad followed after her carrying the rest of the bags scoping out the room and then looking up at me. Setting down a handful of shopping bags he beckoned for me to come down.

"I got you some more clothes Dracha. Go take them up into your room and put them away."

I went down the stairs over to him as he sorted through to discern which bag had the clothes for me in them. He handed me my clothes and I went back up the stairs after thanking him.

After setting my clothes in the dresser like a good little boy would, I sat down in my room on my bed looking at its bolsters. That was close!


	18. I was on top of my class

I was on top of my class. That is to say, I was the total best student in the grade. This is because of my absolute ability to remember everything I wrote on my paper and saw on the board. Plus I studied.

It was the end of my career as a student in preliminary school. We had an assembly where I was given this certificate that read 'You did it!' and my name etched underneath in my teacher's handwriting. I had seen my dad in the crowd with my sister. He'd looked so proud of me I couldn't say thank you to my teacher after he handed me the diploma. When I turned around to sit with my classmates again I couldn't help but smirk to myself.

This meant that I was now going to move on to academy. I would have to take a long vacation until academy opened up, but once it did I would be in my first class towards my real career; all my clan goes there, even if only for one or two years. It teaches character, or at least that's was my dad had said. I don't know if that's true, but it sounds cool. I'm hoping to be just like my dad when I grow up. He's always going on these super awesome missions, and he saves people. I want to do that.

The ceremony had lasted maybe fifteen minutes. They had cake for us afterwards, but we went home instead and made our own cake. Which was tons of fun because Dad just can't cook. This is why he wasn't a bomb technician like my mom. In order to make a bomb you need to have the ingredients just right or it'll explode on you! The most I can say about my dad's cooking: he has a knack for making our food explode.

We only let him put the cake in and out of the oven because we're not old enough yet to operate it ourselves. This kind of cake is normally only cooked on our birthdays, but I thought I deserved it and nether of them complained. It was our third time making it without Mommy, but our first time when Dad didn't take out that juice that we're not allowed to touch and drank it down to an empty cup and went to bed early and made Gobo cry. So I was pretty happy!

After we put blue and red icing on it, we ate it with full glasses of milk and store bought sugar dumplings. We all got kind of goofy at the table too. Gobo ate with her fingers and crammed her cake in her mouth until her cheeks bulged, Daddy flung his food at me when I called him fat and the icing stuck to my hair until it globbed off and fell into my milk glass, and I laughed so hard my sides killed me and milk came out my nose. Today was definitely a great day to be alive.

And I didn't think about that woman that day. Not even when I put my head on my pillow that night under my thin covers in summer pajamas and went to sleep.


End file.
